


Ten cc's of Spiritus Vitae and Call Me in the Morning

by treefrogie84



Series: Take the love that I've embraced [7]
Category: Supernatural, Wayward Sisters - Fandom
Genre: Case Fic, Gen, Mentions of Cancer, Other, Shtriga
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-18
Updated: 2020-01-18
Packaged: 2021-02-27 08:21:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,589
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22304074
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/treefrogie84/pseuds/treefrogie84
Summary: Claire glares at her computer screen, trying to figure out who the hell Henry Pitcher is besides one of the financial case managers at the local hospital. She’s definitely got him back before to the American Civil War, when he took a twenty year trip overseas, but none of that tells her anything about what the fuck he is. Groaning, Claire flips her computer shut and bangs her head on the tabletop.
Relationships: Minor or Background Relationship(s)
Series: Take the love that I've embraced [7]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1160675
Comments: 7
Kudos: 7
Collections: SPNColdestHits





	Ten cc's of Spiritus Vitae and Call Me in the Morning

**Author's Note:**

> Spoilers in the end notes if you're worried about the Cancer tag.

**The man who was _not_ Jack the Ripper had been promoted four times in the last two years.** And every step of the way, more patients died. The deaths looked like accidents, or bad luck, but more bad luck follows Pitcher’s patients than any other cashier.

Claire glares at her computer screen, trying to figure out who the hell Henry Pitcher is besides one of the financial case managers at the local hospital. She’s definitely got him back before to the American Civil War, when he took a twenty year trip overseas, but none of that tells her anything about what the fuck he _is_. Groaning, Claire flips her computer shut and bangs her head on the tabletop.

“Still on Dr. Pitcher?” Alex sighs, setting a beer on the table next to her head. “Claire, I’m with you on something being wrong with the guy, but I’m pretty sure it’s something more along the lines of homophobic asshole pig than evil undead monster.”

“Nah,” Claire shakes her head and takes a long drink from her beer. “He’s definitely old, super old, and probably evil? But not undead. I think.”

“That’s less reassuring.”

“Yeah, well, he’s also not Jack the Ripper.”

“That… wasn’t something I was aware I needed to worry about?” Alex stares at her for a long moment before turning back to the fridge and pouring herself a glass of wine. “Kaia out on a job?”

“Working with Cas and Jack. It was hang out here or watch Dean and Sam make moon eyes at Cas and Eileen.” Claire sighs and rolls her fingers on the lid of her laptop before piling all the papers on top. She’s not going to get anything else done for a while. “So yeah, mysterious case of Dr. Pitcher and his frankly medieval attitudes.”

“You _could_ sit between them and make moon eyes at Kaia.” Alex laughs at Claire’s face. “Or not. So, when you say super old and _not_ Jack the Ripper…”

Claire gestures toward her computer vaguely and pops to her feet, grabbing the stack of takeout menus from the fridge. “I think it’s pretty obvious what that means. Chinese or pizza?”

“Thai. You’d fit right in with the lonely hearts club. Do you know what Pitcher is then? Or are you just gonna run in there guns blazing and hope for the best?”

“I hit up that new database that Celeste put together… and ran it by Dean. If I didn’t take care of it, he was gonna come up here. Patience and Jodes?”

“How did he… Those weird pneumonia patients coming out of the oncology ward. We lost two more this week.” Alex drags the laptop in front of her and quickly pulls Claire’s research up. “And yeah. Should be home soon-- something about parent-teacher conferences?” Alex roll her eyes before bending over the laptop to read.

“Bingo,” Claire says. She opens the menu for their local Thai joint and quickly places the order over the phone. “Girl Psychic gonna be valedictorian?”

“It’s apparently ‘complicated’ since she transferred here right before her last semester?” Alex shrugs, taking another drink of her wine. “She’s gonna nice girl it, let whoever _was_ number one have it.”

“That’s bullshit,” Claire says stridently. “She deserved that shit!”

“Which is why we have our GEDs and she’s going to fucking _Stanford_ , valedictorian or not.”

“Jesus. Sam’ll proud of her anyway.” Claire turns her most innocent look on Alex. “So… Wanna help me hunt your boss?”

“Not my boss.” Alex snorts, her eyes glinting. “That jackass is killing people in _my_ hospital and already has three nurses on administrative leave. I’m in.”

Claire grins, bright and feral, while she passes Alex a ream of printouts from the database, notes Dean sent her, even an old lore book she’d scrounged up.

Alex glares at her, halfheartedly, waving her wine glass for a refill as she settles at the kitchen table. “You knew all along I’d help out, didn’t you?”

“A monster hunting your patients? Of course you were going to help. The only question is how much I was going to need to push.” All the same, she pushes to her feet, sticking the takeout menus back onto the fridge and refilling Alex’s wine from the box in the fridge.

“What is this?” Alex thumbs through the papers. “A shtriga? I thought that was a witch from one of those games Jack plays with Celeste.”

“If only.” Claire wrinkles her nose and leaves the table to Alex, grabbing a stack of plates and silverware to set the table in the other room. Alex always studies better when she’s just left alone.

* * *

“You’re sure this is the pattern?” Claire asks, staring at the generic split level the next evening. “I mean, monster I get, but this is…”

“A terrible indictment of the American healthcare system and proof that our world is terrible? Yeah.” Alex snorts. “But yeah, I’m sure of the pattern. All the pneumonia patients who died had a financial consult, went to chemo, and then went home. Sick the next day, then really sick, then pneumonia, coma, and death. All on the patients who’s insurance wasn’t going to cover anything else.”

“I can’t wait to gank this fucker.” Claire ejects the magazine on her pistol, double checking before reinserting it. “How are you going to explain this shit?”

“I told Mx. Watkin and their wife I’d be by this evening to check in since they weren’t feeling well at their appointment.” Alex shrugs. “Honestly? I think they’re so relieved that I’m willing come over without billing the hospital that they’ll just completely skip over the monster hunting thing. You’re healthy right? No cold or flu?”

“You gave me the flu shot back in October, and yeah. No sneezes or sniffles. I don’t want to make their lives _worse_. Bad enough he’s going after cancer patients.” Claire takes a deep breath. “Ok, let’s get started then.”

“Alex,” the woman answers the door when they knock. “Thank you, really.”

“It’s not a problem, Carrie. How’s Robin feeling?”

Carrie shrugs, glancing at Claire curiously before looking at Alex. “I don’t know really. They were feeling alright this morning when I left for work but then that news from the insurance company and chemo…” She shrugs again, her eyes bleak. “Fucking cancer, ya know?”

“Yeah.” Alex frowns, reaching up to touch Carrie’s arm. “I think I’ve mentioned my almost-sister Claire before? She’s here to help out tonight. Can we talk?”

Carrie blinks and shakes her head. “Yeah, sure, of course. We’re just watching one of those stupid comic book shows.” Leading them upstairs, she gestures them towards the living room where Robin is curled up on the couch, struggling out from under their blankets to sit up.

There’s an armchair in the corner next to the TV, facing the couch-- clearly not used very often-- where Alex drops her jacket before dropping into a crouch next to Robin. “How you doing?”

“Shitty,” Robin coughs. It sounds wet, and sore, like they’ve been coughing all day. “I was feeling pretty good until that meeting with the financial adviser and then…” They shrug. “But hey, I kept dinner down for once.”

“Good!” Alex does a bunch of medical things before popping back up. “Things I’m not allowed to tell you until I’ve got some more letters after my name: you’re riding the edge of a respiratory infection, which I don’t need to tell you is bad news. So we need to talk.”

Carrie collapses onto the couch next to Robin’s feet, groping across the blankets to grab her spouse’s hand. “Oh god.”

Alex bites her lip and gestures Claire forward. “It’s not as bad as all that, Carrie, I promise.”

This seemed like a much better idea before Claire saw just how sick Robin was. If she doesn’t make the kill shot, if she screws up _at all_ , Robin’s going to die. Hell, they might die even if she doesn’t.

Taking a deep breath, she lets it out slowly. “So the thing you need to understand is that monsters are real. And there’s one hunting and killing cancer patients at the hospital.”

“What are you talking about?” Robin says roughly. “There’s a zombie eating brains in the oncology ward?”

Claire wobbles her hand in a so-so gesture. “Closer to a vampire? And life force. I don’t know if he’s just got a taste for chemo drugs or he figured those patients would die anyway.” She doesn’t think telling them that she’s pretty sure he was feasting on AIDS patients in the late 80s and 90s will be helpful. “Alex and I can go into it if you want-- lay out exactly what this thing is, how it operates, all of it. But that won’t change the basics. And I need your help to kill it.”

Robin swallows, their knuckles going white around Carrie’s hand. “I knew I got too sick from the chemo too fast.” Taking a deep breath, they cough before nodding. “Before we go any further, what do you need from us?”

Claire grimaces. “The only way to kill these things is while they’re feeding. Which means you’ll be up close and personal while I blow it away.”

Carrie shakes her head, already looking apprehensive. “Guns are--”

“Are necessary in this case,” Alex says firmly. “I understand that you’re not fans, but some things… even if we knew a knife or something would work, the risk is greater that Robin gets hurt, or Claire.”

Claire shrugs when Carrie and Robin look at her. “If I thought it would work, I’d put you both up in a hotel for the night, far away from here.” Sighing, she leans against the wall, trying to look older and more competent. “And I’ll still do it if you want nothing to do with this-- I get it. Once this shit touches you, it… things change.”

“This isn’t the worst thing out there?” Carrie asks pointedly. “There’s worse things?”

Claire gives her the trite answer, because it’s true, if incomplete. “Every horror movie you’ve ever heard of. Except for aliens and Bigfoot, and frankly, I’m not sure about Bigfoot.”

Carrie nods, looking at Robin and doing one of those wordless conversations that couples who’ve been together a long time do. It goes on for a while, but eventually they come to a conclusion.

“This had better work,” Carrie says darkly. “Alex, you’ll stay here, right? In case something happens?”

“Absolutely,” Alex reassures her. “I never planned on doing anything else.”

* * *

While Alex, Carrie, and Robin chat, Claire roams the house, familiarizing herself with it in case she has to go running in the dark. Three bedrooms upstairs-- one set up as a guestroom, one an office, and the master-- along with the kitchen/ dining room and living room, while there’s a craft room downstairs and basement storage. It’s all neatly arranged and organized, like one of them-- Carrie, if Claire had to guess-- is putting all her stress into carefully labeled boxes and storage bins.

Robin cuts themself off mid-yawn as Claire comes back upstairs. “I think it’s time for me to go to bed. How are we doing this?”

“You go to bed. And when the thing starts to feed, I’ll come in and shoot it.” She tries to look reassuring. “Before I open fire, I’ll yell ‘Down.’ All you need to do is roll off the bed and crawl underneath so you’re safe.”

No one looks convinced.

Which, fair, she’s not sure about it either-- Robin is _really_ sick and Carrie is clearly petrified-- but it’s the only plan Claire can come up with that doesn’t involve getting Dean and/or Jody in here to take over.

“I won’t shoot you, I promise,” Claire says firmly. “But you being under the bed will make it a lot safer.”

Robin and Carrie nod shakily before climbing up and heading to the bedroom. Alex looks after them for a long moment before turning to Claire. “You’re sure you can do this?”

“Consecrated iron rounds while it’s feeding.” Claire takes a deep breath and lets it out slowly. “Any chance we can get Carrie to sleep in the guest room?”

“No,” Alex says flatly. “She’s completely devoted to Robin, the only reason they’re alone at appointments is because Carrie’s job is the one with the insurance.”

Claire nods. “Alright then. Let’s get set up.”

* * *

Alex shifts in her chair on Carrie’s side of the bed, managing to make it look like sleepy rustling. Claire can feel her eyes drooping from her spot in the doorway to the small master bath, but she forces them back open, waiting.

The shadows of the branches outside grow and extend, becoming long spindly fingers that somehow, impossibly, pass through the glass like the shadow they appear to be.

Claire holds her breath as the hooded monster reforms inside and bends over Robin’s side of the bed. It drags the comforter back, exposing Robin to the chill air and leaning over. Alex wakes fully at the light and snaps a hand over to Carrie, dragging her off the bed and out of the line of fire.

A smokey blue glow starts to flow from Robin to the shtriga.

Taking careful aim, Claire shoots the monster, double tapping just like Jody taught her. One shot into center mass, and then, while it’s rearing back, Claire puts a second shot in the back of its skull.

It falls, crushing Robin under it. Claire drops her pistol, rushing to pull the body off Robin, praying that she didn’t kill them along with the monster.

The shtriga crumbles under her finger tips, breaking apart like charred wood as Claire tosses the body on the ground beside the bed. It falls to pieces, leaving behind just dust and a dirty hooded robe.

“Robin?”

They cough, deep and hacking, waving their hand in a thumbs up. “Fine, I’m fine.”

Alex and Carrie push Claire aside, propping Robin up so they can breath easier, checking for any wounds or broken bones. They’re both smiling through as Claire flips on the overhead light, Carrie laughing breathlessly.

Claire backs out of the room silently, retreating to the living room to wait. Slumping into the arm chair, she idly pokes at her phone, trying not to worry too much about how long it’s taking Alex to come out from the bedroom. There’s a text from Jody that she ignores and a new text from Kaia.

_> > Heard you caught a hunt. LMK you’re safe? :*_

_< < I’m fine, Alex is fine, not sure about the victim yet. Waiting for Alex to do the nurse thing._

_< < :* _

_> > We’re just about done here I think. Tomorrow maybe? Wanna come pick me up?_

_< < Always_

“Everything okay?” Alex asks, exhausting dragging at her as she comes into the living room.

“Checking in with Kaia.” Claire shrugs, pushing to her feet. “Robin doing alright?”

Alex shrugs. “As good as can be expected. Carrie and I got them moved to the guest room for tonight and we’ll get the bedroom cleaned back up in the morning.” She pauses, glancing around the living room. “I need to stay-- I’m worried about Robin’s breathing-- but you go back to the house. Let Jody know?”

“Sure thing.” Claire drags Alex into a hug. “Thanks for your help with this one. I know you…”

“It’s fine, Claire. Hunting is never going to be my calling, but I’ll help when I can.”

Claire nods, slipping out the front door and out to her car.

**Author's Note:**

> About the cancer tag: The victim of the week has cancer-- type and severity unmentioned-- and lives under the US Health"care" system. If this is going to stress you out? Don't read it. I promise, it's a straight up case fic with Claire and Alex hunting a shtriga that's using the hospital Alex works at as it's hunting ground. And I probably got some shit wrong about how chemo works-- i'm not in the medical profession at all.
> 
> Related: I'm not non-binary and while I asked a friend for some pointers, I'm aware that not every experience is the same, so my apologies if I completely screwed Robin up.


End file.
